


Restless

by oldandnewfirm



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Face-Sitting, Oral Sex, no glowing blue light saber dicks here sorry, soul play, this was supposed to be primarily an edging fic but I'm not sure that came across
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 17:51:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6019510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oldandnewfirm/pseuds/oldandnewfirm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frustrated over schedules that have been conspiring against them for weeks now, Sans and Toriel finally carve out some time for themselves late one night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Restless

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the wonderful work of Happikathassinned on tumblr.

_Shower, sleep, shower, sleep_ — it was the mantra that kept Sans sane after spending nine hours slinging hash in a cramped food truck for a bunch of drunken college students. But its power had flagged over the course of the last few weeks, and tonight he found nothing cheering about the prospect of exiting his bathroom into the dark, silent expanse of the bedroom beyond.

Tori was already in bed, which wasn’t surprising since it was well past three in the morning and she was pulling a double at Muffet’s starting at eight. She roused enough to exchange a groggy greeting, and lifted her arm so he could tuck in against her. This, at least, was something to look forward to. Tori was like a big, warm pillow, and he cuddled with her every opportunity he could get.

She kissed the top of his skull. “Goodnight, love.”

“’night.”

Sadly, it was the most they'd interacted in days.

 _It’s just for a semester_ , he reminded himself. In four weeks Tori would complete her teacher certification course, his astrophysics classes would wrap up for the summer, and they could once more enjoy a life where passing greetings or goodbyes in the hallway outside their apartment were not luxuries to be prized.

Suddenly, the arm that was draped over him tightened its hold by a fraction, drawing him out of his thoughts. Toriel’s fingers splayed over his chest, and she shifted to bring him closer to her.

“Still awake?” she asked.

“How could you tell?”

“You are breathing.”

“Oh. Right.”

He remembered the first time he’d dozed off in Toriel’s presence, as said dozing had ended when she began to frantically shake him out of fear that he’d fallen down. He’d had to explain that for skeletons, breathing was more a show of solidarity with their fellow monsters than a necessity, and that when he stopped doing so in his sleep he wasn’t dying. _Promise._

“I’m surprised _you’re_ awake,” he said. “You sleep like a rock monster, T.”

“Honestly, I have slept poorly the last few nights. _You_ hit the mattress and are dead to the world at once.” She nuzzled the top of his skull. “But I am glad you are awake now. It is good to hear your voice again.”

He murmured his agreement. “We should drop out of school. Quit our jobs, spend our days eating popato chisps and playing video games on the sofa…”

“How romantic. But I have had quite enough of being a homebody, thank you.”

“Well you wouldn’t have to feel like one for long; we’d go broke and get the boot soon enough.”

She snorted. “All the same, I think I prefer what I have now— a cozy apartment, a comfy bed, and…” her tone lowered to an octave that seemed to reverberate through him, making his body hum with anticipation. “…a handsome young man to share it with.”

“Oh yeah? Anyone I know?”

She hummed thoughtfully. “I think so. He is about your height, pale, rather thin. And he has the funniest little quirks.”

“Like what?”

“Well, for example, there is this little spot on his neck here—”

So saying, she pressed a kiss to the junction where his spine met the back of his skull, and followed it with a nip of her teeth that turned his breath to a hiss.

“Why, yes,” she said, voice full of mock surprise. “It makes him do something like that. Here, I will show you another…”

It was almost embarrassing how quickly she’d “solved” him, given that they’d only been intimate for a few months. But as she continued her guided tour of his body, he couldn’t resent her sure mouth and fingers teasing pleasure out of his bones. When he reached down to touch himself, she caught his hand and kissed it. “Not tonight. All right?”

“Aw, c’mon Tori—”

“It will be worth it later.”

Knowing her he didn’t doubt it, so he returned his hands to the mattress and tried not to focus on the desire building within him. Didn’t do much good, of course; soon enough his ribs began to flush with a dim, blue light. When she hiked his shirt up to trail a whisper-light touch of magic over his sternum he whimpered, and the flush became a blaze as his soul took form.

“Already?” she said, “my, you are eager tonight.”

She slid her hand into his ribcage and gently cupped his soul in her palm, not-quite touching it but still close enough to make him shiver. “Do you want me to take it?”

“Please,” he whispered.

There were no words in human language to describe the sensation of one’s soul being extracted from their body. The closest analogy he’d been able to find was that feeling you got when you missed a stair, amplified by a hundred. The world flip-flopped, his thought processes ground to a halt, his body was paralyzed by a flash of pure, instinctual fear—

—and then Toriel’s intentions _(calm, safe, loved)_ washed over him, and he relaxed. Well, as much as one could relax when the core of their being was in another’s hands. But he trusted her implicitly, and so what tension remained in his body was more anticipation than anything else.

She sat up, chuckling softly, his soul held between her fingers. As she spoke she turned it this way and that like she was admiring a fine jewel. “The key to soul play is finding the right touch. Too much, and the fun ends scarcely after it began. Too little, and…” she made a show of looking thoughtful. “Actually, that can be fun, too.”

He sensed what was coming, but he still couldn’t suppress his squeak of delight as she gave his soul the tiniest squeeze.

“Liked that, did you?” She slid her free hand under the hem of her nightgown and between her thighs. She squeezed his soul again, then again, building to a steady rhythm that left him gasping and scrabbling at the sheets. All the while she watched him intensely; from this angle he could just see her fingers plunging into herself, working faster and faster. It was hypnotizing.

“Hey,” he said, “Let me…”

She followed his gaze, then smirked slightly. “Now _there’s_ an idea.”

She let his soul hang in the air for a moment while she situated herself astride his upper torso, balanced so her weight wasn’t putting uncomfortable pressure on him. Her fingers slid out of her with a wet sound, and she pressed one of them to his teeth.

“Hungry?” she asked.

He opened his mouth enough for her to insert it. The faintly electric tingle of her juices met his tongue. He chased every trace of them an enthusiasm she seemed to approve of, for she added a second finger and let him suck on them for a minute or so before she withdrew them.

“More?” she asked.

He flicked his tongue over his teeth. “Always.”

She smiled, swung her hips forward, and sat on his face. Heat, wet, and the heady scent of her arousal engulfed him all at once. His mouth filled with the taste of her, and he eagerly sought more. His soft, happy hum against her turned to a moan when she suddenly took his soul in hand once more. Her touch radiated her joy, a sentiment echoed by her little tremors and sighs.

His concentration faltered, torn between basking in his soul’s pleasure and the desire to please her, but he forced himself to focus and lavish her with the attention she deserved. His efforts were rewarded when her hand gripped his skull, the pressure insistent, and the encouragements she’d been speaking veered towards profane. Pride welled in his ribs: she held his soul, the very core of him, but he still held the power to unravel her.

“Confident, a-are we?” she asked.

Right. His soul gave her access to his emotions. Well, since he couldn’t answer vocally he decided that the best response was to grab her bottom, pull her more firmly against his mouth, and drive her to the brink.

“Sans—!”

It started as a cry and ended abruptly as her thighs locked around him and she came. The echo of it sang sweetly through his soul and body in turn, but an echo alone wasn’t enough to strike that final note of satisfaction. The urge to touch himself redoubled; with difficulty, he ignored it.

When the last tremors of her orgasm had ebbed she eased off of him and took a seat on the mattress, looking him over with a soft, lazy smile on her muzzle. The attention made him flush.

“Credit where credit is due, love,” she said. “You _orally_ good at that.”

He snorted, then answered hoarsely, “Yeah, well, given my lack of uh, everything, I needed a cunning backup plan. But seriously T, I feel like I’m about to pop. Can I…?”

She tapped a finger on his sternum. “Soon. But I have barely seen you this semester. For the moment, I would simply like to enjoy you.”

He whimpered.

She released his soul once more. The hand on his ribs sank to his spine, while the other settled on his pelvis. Her caresses were deliberate, each keeping him on the cusp of orgasm, but never allowing him to embrace it. Every so often she’d add her mouth to the mix, seeking out with teeth and tongue all the little places that made him moan.

The sheer force of his need threatened to shake him apart. His voice was nearly a whine when he spoke; he didn’t care. “T, _please._ Let me— oh god, let me — ”

“Very well,” she murmured, and in that moment they were the sweetest words he’d ever heard. She leaned over and planted a gentle kiss on his cheek. “Thank you for humoring me this long.”

She cupped his soul, and an instant later engulfed it in magic. Explosions went off in his skull. Thought, sensation, sound, all vanished in a flash. Ecstasy consumed his world; there was no room for anything else.

It felt like hours before he came down, though in reality he knew it was no more than a minute or two. Shakily, perception returned to him. His body still twitched with the aftershocks of his orgasm, but his almost painful desire of minutes ago had been replaced by deep satisfaction. There was Toriel, stretched out on the bed beside him, her hand smoothing over his sweaty brow. She caught his eye and they exchanged soft smiles before she leaned over to kiss his cheek once more. His soul hummed happily within him; he was whole again.

“Wow,” he said, when he’d recovered enough to speak.

“Worth staying up for,” she said. “Though I will probably regret it in—” she glanced at the softly-glowing readout on the ceiling, “—four hours.” She sighed. “Ah well.”

A thought waded through the treacle in his mind, and voiced itself before he had time to deny it. “Want to make it three and a half?”

Her brows shot up. “Really?”

“You said it yourself— we’ve barely seen each other this semester. Might as well make the most of the time we’ve got. And besides…it’d be pretty _soulfish_ of me to not share an orgasm like _that_.”

“Oh dear,” she said, and she toyed with her nightgown strap. “Is it time to enter the bone zone?”

They managed to last a whole five seconds before they burst out laughing.

 


End file.
